We will put her in two graves.

so how long. how how long. do you keep it here. toiling in obscurity. slightly abandoned and at very least unused. and it’s a ghost of a song to bring it back. something already lost to time, space and a large record collection. could it make a come back. could it be relevant. again. if it ever was to begin with.

until the night is over

it was like that but not. similar with just a ting of new. so a comfort on a grey night. new but not hard. something that slipped under the radar. not bad enough to get noticed but not really good enough either. something just right for right now. and a soundtrack to place it. just. so. with the one perfect song for repeats that manages to sum it all up.

i should write more.

time has a way of throwing it all in your face

This is a day for looking back in pain. For wallowing in mistakes and lost chances. But this today might not be today. Today could be yesterday or tomorrow. But there’s always a day for it. And it comes and goes but always with it’s place. Not pushed aside but embraced for what it is. Tomorrow will be the day for embracing with angry and fury all the good and positive. Moving forward as always. But not today. Today we play sad bastard music in the dark. Because the pain is ok sometimes. It is was it is and shouldn’t be pushed aside and ignored. So for a moment it’s low and glorious in it’s weight. If I drank it would be a night for hard drinks.

i was a plain jane.

here. and there. with stops somewhere in-between. spaces as always. voiced by songs found in commercials and snippets of lyrics taken out of context, twisted and reshaped. with cover songs killing time and killing hope. with parenthesis unheard but printed on the page never looked at. sometimes that’s all that’s need. with it all falling into that feeling that comes.

if the lights draw you in

it’s the ups and downs that never seem to end. sometimes it’s quicker than others but all still keeps going. so it’s soldiering on, shoulder to the wheel and other expressions of the same sort. because it never comes the way you expect it too.

carrying on and on because that’s the only way to do it. it’s music for the uplift. even when it’s a sad sad song.

it’s letting people in. knowing all that can bring. the good. the bad. the painful. the wonderful. it’s being open to what ever might happen. where ever you might find it.

because that’s the only way to.

they like brains but we like blondes.

this is clear cut.

there are those albums you come back to all the time. when I first got it Libertine staid on my turntable for a least a month. Getting played everyday. As well as being put onto both sides of a tape that may have well been glued into my walkman. And it still comes back again and again. There isn’t any time or feeling attached to it either. It’s just good and borderline perfect. Other albums and songs have very specific activities or events or memories attached to them which all come back when played. But this doesn’t. It just is. It’s a big time impact for a small album that I’m not really sure how many people got to hear or appreciate. But it’s out there. So you should.

let my urning shine

and here it is again. with pain and venom and sadness. there’s nothing in the spaces here. nothing between the lines. it is what it is. nothing more. nothing less. take it at face value. trying for no hidden means. other than those few that are always there. never quiet as simple as you think it is. summed up and forgotten. with songs from a yesterday five years ago. precisely un-timely in the most perfect way. under clear cold skies, the night time walks down empty streets. with lights at home kept dim. because it’s still 3am eternal. now and forever. the dim time that brings it all. being 12 hours off the world. steamed milk and calming down at 8am. those days spent as nights. night for day being the perfect time. with song fragments no one will get. with quotes that always sound grime. memories that pierce. a sad smile and a happy tear. it’s moving forward with a rage. putting it all on the line again. and again if needed. screaming along to the songs that need to be screamed to.

ghosts in the hardware

it’s a night for dark songs to go with the grey. for drives in dark dark settings. to be far from the edge and right in the middle of nothing. lost in the beats and the minutia. with edits and re-writes. deletes and pauses. no kicks just a gentle embrace of it. keeping it in the spaces.